My Beautiful Annabel Lee
by PurplePoctopus
Summary: We loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee.  Balthazar never thought he'd fall in love, especially not with a human.


**DISCLAIMER: I did not write Annabel Lee. That honor goes to Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.**

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><p><em>It was many and many a year ago,<em>

_In a kingdom by the sea,_

_That a maiden lived with no other thought_

_Than to love and be loved by me._

All those years ago, Balthazar never thought that he'd be bound to a human. The soul that he pulled from Hell, the woman, the thief… He never expected for their energies to intertwine. The old myth was that humans originally had four arms, four legs, and two faces. Soul mates were human. The other half. He didn't even have a soul, but somehow, he knew it was right. He had always indulged himself in worldly pleasures; food, drink, sex… but had never slept. He always saw sleeping as weak, utterly human, utterly ape. But, once she came along, he couldn't bear to leave her alone at night, and the whole "I watch you when you sleep" thing was a bit too creepy for his tastes. She knew how much she was loved, and loved him back as much.

_I was a child and she was a child,_

_In this kingdom by the sea;_

_But we loved with a love that was more than love—_

_I and my Annabel Lee;_

_With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven_

_Coveted her and me._

For humans, she was young, for angels, he was also young. Both were jaded beyond their years, but together, they seemed to let go. Nights passed, nights of holding and tender loving, nights of lust and eager fucking. The purple marks left on her by his mouth, and the raised red scratches left on him by her nails were unconventional marks of their love. Marks of Balthazar's monogamy, and Bela even stepping into a bed at all.

The other angels, however, did not understand. It wasn't just Raphael and his men, but those on Castiel's side. Those who were concerned that a Hell harlot was distracting one of the generals of the resistance decided that she was a threat to their cause. In their eyes, she was nothing but one of Crowley's toys, the former keeper of hounds. They didn't care that she helped recollect Heaven's weapons, and Raphael's side certainly did. To the angels of Heaven, she was just the first seal, something to be broken and discarded. Balthazar, however, saw her significance. He thought she was something more.

_And this was the reason that, long ago,_

_In this kingdom by the sea,_

_A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling_

_My beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_So that her highborn kinsman came_

_And bore her away from me, _

_To shut her up in a sepulchre_

_In this kingdom by the sea._

One day, Bela sat alone in Balthazar's house. She was waiting for him to return from a meeting with Castiel, but he was taking longer than normal to arrive. So, alone she sat, until she heard a voice in her head. "Run, love." It said. "Run, they're coming for you." And while Bela had never been one to listen to the voices in her head, something told her that this one was serious. She grabbed a jacket and ran out the front door.

Instead of freedom, she hit two angels in black Armani suits and dark sunglasses. The men were clearly on the side of Raphael, against humans touching angels. They grabbed her arms and dragged her kicking and screaming out of the house, and shouted at her with frigorific breaths. Before Balthazar could appear and save her, they disappeared. Their final destination was a cave on an island in the Atlantic, a cave that would flood during every high tide. The angels knocked her out with one touch of her forehead, and shut her in a stone coffin, left for dead.

_The angels, not half so happy in heaven,_

_Went envying her and me—_

_Yes!—that was the reason (As all men know,_

_In this kingdom by the sea)_

_That the wind came out of the cloud by night,_

_Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee._

After Raphael's men locked Bela away to her death, he couldn't stand to be in Heaven. He descended to Earth again and began selling artifacts for souls, hoping to gain enough power to raise his beloved from her untimely second death. Along the way, he ran into his brother, Castiel, the one that he ran away from. It wasn't anything personal, Balthazar tried to explain, but because she was dead… He couldn't face Raphael's men. The old Castiel would understand, but this one, war-torn and broken, just pulled Balthazar back into the fight. Once again, he was a soldier.

Angels were never too happy in heaven after Lucifer was shut away. Everything was anarchy up there, and Balthazar always found comfort in the way that humans tried to do something for the greater good. They usually failed and fell into the many sins of life… Lying, sex, gluttony, addiction… But they had pure intentions for the most part. He did consider himself better than him, just because it was a comfort. If no one liked you, you had no one to disappoint. At least that's what he thought as he finished his last bottle of Jack.

_But our love it was stronger by far than the love_

_Of those who were older than we—_

_Of many far wiser than we—_

_And neither the angels in heaven above,_

_Nor the demons down under the sea,_

_Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee._

One night, after a long bout of drinking, Balthazar called on his old friend. Atropos—Fate… She always scolded a little bit too much, and didn't drink enough, but he had to know. So, he sat the blonde down and looked at her with sad, bloodshot eyes. "Why? Why her?" he asked over and over again. She couldn't answer, and left as quickly as she came. And Balthazar felt such a hurt in his chest from the absence of his Bela, from the way he'd feel her death on repeat right in the very core of his Grace. He could feel her struggle, hear her pray for him to come, and feel her last breath bubble up to the surface as the salty seawater entered her lungs. And he'd take another drink to try to numb it, but it wouldn't stop.

It was why he tried to help Sam Winchester. He envied the way Sam didn't feel. The way he could watch someone he loved die and not have to wallow in pain. He had nothing against Bobby Singer, and no real vendetta against Dean. He didn't like him, but he felt that he was doing a service to him by keeping Sam from remembering Hell, remembering those lost, all because he wished that he could forget _her._

_For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

_Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,_

_In the sepulchre there by the sea,_

_In her tomb by the sounding sea._

A few months later, Castiel broke. He was losing the war, canoodling with demons and sneaking behind the back of his brother. When Balthazar found out about Castiel's plans, he banded with the Winchesters to try to stop him. After losing Bela, three years with Bela, he couldn't lose his favorite brother. But, the brother he knew, the brother he loved so much, was gone. Balthazar didn't want it to end this way, and neither did Castiel, but they knew that one had to kill the other. Castiel was just the one a bit too close to the edge. With one jab of his sword, Balthazar's Grace flickered out, his body slumped to the floor and his wings burned into the cement.

And after he fought with the Winchesters, Castiel returned his brother to the sepulchre where his beloved Bela was buried, and laid him with her. Two halves, two hearts… Two hearts never to beat together again.


End file.
